


Regrets

by MetalPrincess13 (Essence_of_Silence)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Palletshipping, Suicide Attempt Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Essence_of_Silence/pseuds/MetalPrincess13
Summary: Years of regret have steadily built, leaving Gary alone and frustrated with himself as Ash achieves their dream and becomes the Kanto Champion. Can the newest Pokemon Master make Gary realize that he isn't as much of a screw up as he thinks he is? Angsty Palletshipping one-shot.





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: heavy angst, depression, feelings of worthlessness, mentions of past suicide attempt  
> Originally written and posted on FF.net back in 2013.

_ **Regrets** _

 

Have you ever looked back on the things you've done and thought "could I be any more of a screw up?"

Sadly, I find myself doing that more and more lately. It's as though I can't stop torturing myself that way... I think of him, then I remember the stupid things I've said and done over the years, and then I spend the next three hours beating myself up over it. The list of stupid things is pretty long: all of the insults, going so far as to carve them into signs on the main Kanto routes, showing off my badges, Pokemon, and knowledge at any and all opportunities... Not to mention the cheerleaders.

At the end of the day, he always won. Maybe not the battles, maybe he didn't have the long list of captured Pokemon - Ash always won with quality, not quantity. That was what always made me jealous. Sure, I had half a dozen cheerleaders screaming my name at every battle, but he had two best friends always on hand to cheer him, talk to him, listen to him, and keep him out of trouble. Over a hundred Pokemon and I had a connection with only a handful of them while all of his were his close friends. Of course, I won more badges - I had all but memorized the League guides to Kanto and Johto and had specifically trained my teams for each gym. Knowing Ash, I'm sure he never thought that far ahead.

Yet here we are. He's the Champion with a list of successes, while I'm a researcher living in my grandfather's shadow. A screw up indeed.

Perhaps it wouldn't be this way if I hadn't been such an idiot as a child. Maybe if I had ignored those strange feelings I felt around him, I wouldn't have killed the best friendship I ever had. Maybe I would have been one of his travel buddies and training partners. Maybe then I would have a list of successes as well, rather than a prescription for antidepressants.

Gazing up at the moon, I wonder why I'm even here. Why in the hell would Ash want his childhood rival at the party celebrating his victory in the League Competition?

The sounds of music and conversation seep outside, despite the closed door to my grandfather's house, and I wish for the thousandth time tonight that I were someone else. The door behind me opens and I don't even need to turn around to know it's him.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" his voice cuts through the night air. His voice is deeper, more controlled than I remember it being. When did hyper little Ash Ketchum grow up and how did I not notice?

"You should be inside." I can't bring myself to look back at him. If I do, I'll probably make an ass of myself, as I seem to be dependable at doing.

"Gary, why are you out here?" He asks, a touch of impatience laces his voice and it sounds more like the voice I heard countless times in my childhood.

"It's your party."

"And you were invited."

"It doesn't matter. You're the Champion."

Champion. It had always been my dream as much as his. It's difficult not to choke on that word. Hell, it's hard not to puke at that word. The very word reeks of regret.

I never stopped wanting to be the Champion. I stopped training because it hurt too much knowing that I would never be able to share that title with him. Not to mention the failures...

I knew I would never reach success that great on my own.

To become a League Champion, you need friends to support you and encourage you, training pals to discuss tactics and practice battles with, and rivals to light a fire within you and to constantly push you further. Pushing people away had left me without the first two and my rivalry with Ash ended years ago. I couldn't deal with the stupid shit I constantly did without thinking.

Somewhere behind me, Ash sighed and walked forward to stand next to me at the railing of the porch.

"You could have been Champion too, you know."

"Yeah, and I could be top researcher too." The words sounded even more bitter than I meant for them to sound.

Ash doesn't reply to the comment and instead changes the subject. I wish he hadn't.

"I heard about August."

Of course. Everyone knew about what had happened three months ago. My biggest screw up ever and it had made headlines all over Kanto. It was the reason everyone walked on eggshells around me these days and likely the reason everyone left me alone with my negative thoughts on the back deck. Everyone, that is, except _him_.

Against my will, my eyes drop to where my hands rest on the wooden railing. I rotate my hands slightly, without thinking, and see the still-healing scars.

I return my gaze to the night sky with a roll of the eyes and a soft sigh. I don't want to remember.

"Why did you do it?" Ash asks, his voice softer than I can ever recall hearing it. There's an underlying tone that takes little effort to place: hurt. I know him too well and the pain in his voice feels like a knife in my chest.

Again, my eyes drop to the scars and, for a moment, I can almost see the blood pouring from the knife wounds again. I release a shaky breath and turn, resting my arms on the railing behind me as I lean against it. I can't see the scars this way.

Suddenly, Ash reaches out and grasps my hand, critically examining my wrist. "Why?" He asks again and I am forced to remember how persistent the guy can be. Then again, there's a reason he's now a Pokemon Master.

His hand is incredibly warm against mine; considering it is late November and is a rather cold night, this shouldn't surprise me. Somehow his hand seems far warmer than it should be, or maybe I've just forgotten what it's like to feel someone else's touch

It's too much to take and I can't help but jerk my hand away from his. I don't know what it is that sets me over the edge: Ash's touch, his proximity, or the pain in his voice. Maybe everything is finally coming full-circle and my actions are finally catching up with me. Either way, all I can think of for a moment is how very much I regret ever letting his friendship go.

Looking away from him, I turn my gaze skyward, once more staring towards the full moon. The temptation to talk is strong and I can feel my heart pounding. At the same time... now is not the first time I wish it would stop beating.

"Gary?"

"I screwed up," I finally tell him. His response is surprising.

"I'll say," he says, staring at me, despite the way I still look at the night sky.  The last thing I want to do is meet his eyes. "Do you know what it would do to me if you died? Why can't you just tell me why you did it?"

"That was the _why_ , Ash. Screw up after screw up after screw up all led to one big fuck up."

"Which would be trying to kill yourself."

"Which would be not cutting deep enough," I correct him tiredly.

Ash sighs and I know I am irritating him. Part of me is annoyed with myself for doing so; another part just wishes he would leave me alone. Silence falls between us and the only noise comes from the music that drifts outside.                   

"You won," I finally say after a long while. "You've always won," I self-correct.

"What are you talking about? You stopped training eight years ago. You didn't lose, you just moved on." Again, his voice sounds more like the one from my childhood: stubborn, determined, passionate.

His passion was always what I loved most about him.

"Being the Kanto Champion, a Pokemon Master, was always our dream," I remind him, finally looking at my childhood friend.

It's the first time I have truly looked at him, in person, in years and I can't help but be amazed at how much he has grown up since we were children. He is taller, his shoulders broader, muscles defined underneath his long-sleeved shirt. He has truly grown into a handsome young man, yet his eyes are the same as ever. His eyes have always been beautifully emotive.

"I screwed up when I decided that I could do it myself. I screwed up every single time I tried to tear you down. I screwed up when I gave up training." I sigh and run a hand through my hair, forcing myself to look away from him. "I really screwed up when I stopped being friends with you." The last is the worst. It is the regret that is most often on my mind. It fuels the rest of my regrets.

Ash was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "You did it because of regret," he says softly to himself. I nod faintly and he is quiet again. "You know what I regret?" he finally asks, resting his arms on the porch railing and staring out at the yard. He doesn't wait for me to reply. "Never telling you that I forgive you for everything when we were kids."

This surprises me and when I turn to face him again, he catches my gaze and holds it. I doubt I've ever been so intimidated by his stare. He takes a step closer, and despite my urge to step back, I stay where I am, letting him lean even closer.

"I regret never telling you how much it hurt to lose you as a rival." He pauses and seems as though he is gathering his courage. "And I regret never doing this," he steps closer again and suddenly his lips are on mine.

My mind goes blank and the kiss is over before I know it. It is now that I realize I could have saved myself so much pain and torment if I had just accepted that I had a crush on my best friend rather than push him away as a child.

"You have no idea how upset I was when I heard," he says.

The pain in his voice is so strong that I can't help but reach out and pull him closer, pressing my lips against his. Before I know it, his arms are around me and any space that had been between us is gone. He draws back from the kiss after a long, long moment and bring his mouth to my ear.

"You are not a screw up," he whispers firmly and suddenly it is all too much.

It doesn't matter how many times my grandfather or sister have told me those exact words. Hearing them from him is all I could ever wish for and the moment the words have sunk in, my face is buried against his shoulder. The tears are inescapable and I know I am making a fool of myself, but it can't be helped. We stay like this for a long time, his hands roving across my back and shoulders, arms constantly holding me tighter until I can finally let go of some of the regret that has been building for years.

When he pulls away, it is only enough to see my face, which he turns to face him. "No more regrets," he murmurs, wiping away the still-drying tear trails. "You'll get through this and you'll be the one to take my Champion title away from me."

He pulls away more completely now, running his hands down my arms until he reaches my hands. As he turns my hands over, he reveals the large twin scars that run across both of my wrists. Most people avoid looking at them, myself included, but he gazes down at them, runs his fingers across them, and lowers his face to press a gentle kiss to each of them.

The gesture is almost enough to make me lose it again but he squeezes my hands and gives me one of his smiles and it somehow holds me together.

For the first time in a long time, I am happy.

 


End file.
